6. MJ
MJ
I t took a drive to Cedar Bend and back to cool down after confronting Mac.
He really pissed me off with his nonchalance.
What game does he think he’s playing? He couldn’t give me a straight answer for anything, and what did he mean by a lot had changed?
Of course, a lot has changed, but I’ve always been a call or text away.
He hasn’t reached out once, so how am I supposed to know what’s changed?
I blow out a breath and sit down at the desk in my room.
Not only could he not give me a straight answer, but he didn’t even bother acknowledging that he robbed Henry’s.
I’m not sure what I was expecting, but between that and just knowing Mac, I still don’t believe he did this.
Or if he did, he must’ve had a good reason to.
My laptop hums to life, and I open up a browser, typing in a few words.
A few minutes later, my body is buzzing with frustration.
Dad said it was a petty theft. That means the worst-case scenario Mac is looking at is a few months in prison.
Best case, he maybe gets some community service.
I keep researching, trying to find anything that could help get Mac out of this, but I’m not getting very far. Not without knowing more .
I slam my laptop closed and lean back in my chair.
Damn it ! I know I offered to help with something at the firm this summer, but I was really hoping Dad wouldn’t take me up on it.
This summer was supposed to be giving me time to figure out a plan for the coming year.
What I was going to do and how I was going to sell it to my parents so that I didn’t have to go to law school just yet.
Hopefully, I never have to, but I need more time to figure that out.
Time I won’t have if I throw myself into this case.
And then there’s Mac. Groaning, I stand and walk over to my corkboard filled with pictures from my childhood. So many pictures of me with my friends. At the creek, in this house; it’s a collage of my life before I left.
I turn away to lie on my bed when a picture catches my attention.
It’s of Mac and me. We’re both lying on our backs with our feet propped up on the window seat in the library downstairs.
Mac’s holding a book above his face, likely reading aloud to me, and I’m looking at him with hearts in my eyes.
We’re maybe thirteen or fourteen, and Mom likely snapped the picture from the doorway when she would pop in and check on us.
Walking across my room, I throw myself onto my bed with a sigh as almost ten years of memories and feelings flood my brain.
Things were so much simpler back then. Mac and I spent almost every waking moment together when we were kids.
Maybe that’s why it hurts so much that he just disappeared from my life without explanation.
I thought he was finally looking at me the way I’d always wanted him to.
I thought we might become more than just friends. And then poof, he was gone.
We may not have talked in a few years, but I still care about him.
I probably always will. If I helped with his case, maybe I could truly help him get a lesser sentence or prove his innocence.
Something to get him out of this. It would mean more time with Mac and maybe we could repair what’s broken between us too.
I tamper the hope blooming in my chest and take a deep breath. One thing at a time.
Later that evening, I head downstairs with a notebook and pen. Taking a seat at the kitchen table with my parents, my dad lifts an eyebrow at what I’ve brought to dinner.
“Emmalynn, what’s this?” my mom asks.
I sit up straight and open my notebook, declaring, “I want to help.”
My mom smiles softly, but my dad looks at me like he doesn’t understand what I’m talking about.
“With Mac’s case, Daddy. I want to help.”
“Emmalynn, I don’t know if it’s such a good idea.” He looks at Mom, who shrugs her shoulders. They’re a team, but Mom isn’t a lawyer, isn’t part of the firm. This is Dad’s decision, but he will always take advice from Mom. It’s a beautiful dynamic and something I could only wish to have some day.
“Let me help, Daddy. I did some research, and I know what Mac is facing. I know the best- and worst-case scenarios and I want to help get the best one.” My dad nods, and I take it as a sign to continue.
“I need to know more about the crime itself, but I found this minor case in Piermont actually, that was similar. I mean, petty theft is pretty common everywhere. But the plea deal they came up with was insanely smart.” I take a breath and look down at my notebook to explain the details, but my dad interrupts.
“Henry won’t accept a plea deal, Emmalynn. He is refusing to meet with us to even discuss it.”
“So try harder! There’s got to be something out there that Henry wants.
It was cigarettes and beer, for goodness’ sake!
” I toss my pen onto the table in my outburst and Mom tries to hide her laugh.
A bit of research and I’m fired up. The defendant agreed to probation and community service instead of jail time, and in exchange, they removed the crime from their permanent record.
It’s common in larger cities, so I don’t see why it couldn’t work in Oakridge.
Dad looks at my mom and then back at me. “Emmalynn, I can tell you’re passionate about this, but—”
“Oh, Bill, let her try. What harm will it do?” She winks at me, and I smile back, taking the cue to be quiet for a moment to let my dad think.
“I just don’t want to see my baby girl get hurt. I know you and Alexander are close friends—”
“We’re not,” I interrupt my dad. “I mean, we used to be, but we haven’t talked in years. Conflict of interest doesn’t exist here, Dad.” I blurt out the half-truth.
He raises his brow, and I shrug. “If you can handle this professionally.” I squeal in my excitement, and he shakes his head in mock-annoyance. “Just don’t let it become personal, okay?”
“Okay, Daddy!” I push out of my seat and run around the table, hugging both of my parents.
Returning to my seat, I close my notebook and dig into the pot roast my mom prepared.
This will be good. I can get to know more about the case, figure out what really happened, and hopefully, Mac won’t face any actual prison time.
“Emmalynn?” My dad’s voice disturbs my thoughts.
“Yeah?” I cringe inwardly at using the improper word but he says nothing about it.
“I have a meeting with Alexander tomorrow. Is that too soon for you to get started?”
“No, not at all. I’ll be ready.” I smile and then look down at my plate as the butterflies in my stomach take flight. It’s sooner than I expected, but I’ll work with it.
June 10
Monday morning, I wake up with my alarm at seven.
By the time I head downstairs, Dad is already in his home office down the hall working and Mac should be here in less than an hour.
At the thought of Mac, the butterflies in my stomach wake up from their slumber.
I take a grounding breath and remind myself this is a work meeting as Dad made it very clear I couldn’t let things get personal.
I grab a muffin and coffee for breakfast and take it to the home library to do some reading before beginning work.
The doorbell rings and my dad hollers from his office, “Emmalynn, can you get that, please? I’m not quite ready for Alexander yet.”
“Sure can!” I yell back. I toss my book on the ottoman and then brush the crumbs off my chest from the muffin—ever since I got boobs, I tend to collect crumbs there anytime I eat.
Opening the large white door, I’m met with Mac in clean jeans and a button-up shirt.
His dark brown hair looks clean but a little untamed without his baseball cap holding it down.
If it weren’t for his work boots, I’d think he had a completely different profession than a mechanic.
I smile softly at him and welcome him into my home. “Come on in. Dad isn’t quite ready to meet yet, but I was just in the library if you want to join me there?”
His eyes scan me up and down, and he nods, adjusting his black backpack on his shoulder.
I turn, feeling his eyes on my back, and lead him to the library.
I sit back down in the chair I was in. Picking my phone up to scroll Instagram, I can’t help but steal glances at Mac.
He’s perusing the shelves of books as if he’s in a bookstore and I wonder if he’s being hit with memories of our time spent in this very room.
The home library isn’t huge, but because Dad and I both love reading so much, it was a necessity.
It’s right off the front door and has a few comfy chairs and a chaise lounge by the front window.
I used to love sitting in that lounge chair and reading while the monsoons would roll in during the summer.
A lot of times Mac was with me, and he’d laugh every time the thunder made me jump .
I look over at the window seat, remembering a severe storm that cut the power.
Mac and I hunkered down with a flashlight, and he read to me while reassuring me everything was going to be just fine.
His soothing voice lulled me into a calm, and the next thing I knew, my mom was waking us up to let us know the storm was over and it was safe for Mac to head home.
A few minutes pass and Dad comes into the library to lead us to his home office.
Grabbing my laptop and notebook off the table, I look behind me and see Mac lingering in the library for an extra second.
I lose sight of him as I turn the corner down the hallway, but he knows his way around the house as well as I do, so I’m not worried he’ll get lost.
Dad sits behind his deep mahogany desk; I sit in the love seat off to the side of the office. I’m close enough to hear but not be in the conversation. My role here is to be a fly on the wall and take notes; at least for now.